French Doll
by potsugi
Summary: Yahiro couldn't tell if the doll looked like Megumi, or if Megumi looked like a doll.


Gosh, I'm so sleepy =3=

Alice here! Making her debut on the S.A fandom on FF! :3

Special A is not mine -if it were I would have focused more on Yahiro and Megumi =_= darn it Minami Maki! why do you have to own the series?

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><p>French D o l l.<p>

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><p>"Cleaning, Yahiro" had said the pink haired woman "The maids say there are too many moths in the attic, so I gave the order to throw away everything and make room. I've already asked Chitose to choose what he wants to keep, so I'm asking you-"<p>

"I don't care, throw everything" he interrupted her, knowing that inside the attic were only his old toys, ironically almost new since he never played with them.

Yahiro's mother rarely cared to step a foot on her son's studio, especially to talk to him. His parents were always working, living for their company. It kind of freaked Yahiro out to listen to his mother talking about the amount of moths living in the attic. No, no, there sure was a hidden motive.

"I thought you'd say that, so, if you please let me finish," she continued with a tic on her eyebrow "I already gave the order, and while throwing your old toys and clothing, they found this" the woman showed Yahiro an old brown bag with golden designs, and took out a porcelain and silk doll "I didn't want to throw it without asking you first."

She put down the bag on the couch in front of Yahiro's desk and silently leaved the room.

Damn hag, he thought with a flushed face and tightening his teeth. A dark aura began creeping around him as he blushed lightly. She knew, she damn well knew that he had ordered the stupid doll from the most expensive dolls brand in France. Seven years ago, though; for Akira's birthday. For Akira, who else? Six months early.

But just then something between them broke, or as Yahiro used to call the incident: a "misunderstanding" (mostly because it still hurt like hell to remember what she had said) happed when Akira discovered he was the one who chased away her little thief friend, who used her. Old words that still echoed somewhere inside his mind.

The doll arrived from Paris right after that, but of course, he wasn't invited anymore. Or more like, it was impossible for him to see her again. And his mother knew that too.

Yahiro turned down the computer and stood up from his desk, walking towards the doll as if it irradiated some radioactive energy. When he was just a few inches apart, he looked at it cautiously, surprising himself. The doll had silky brown hair all down her back, with a straight fringe framing her petite, pale face. Her eyes where golden and wide open, with large black lashes. It was truly beautiful.

He found himself comparing it to Yamamoto Megumi, the little singer –or so she said- who dragged him along in what she considered a date just a week ago. Looking carefully, she and this doll where really alike, although Yahiro couldn't tell if the doll looked like Megumi, or if Megumi looked like a doll. There certainly was a difference.

A smirk appeared in his face as he remembered the day he was forced to spend with her. She really was something; making things explode with only her voice, pouting at anything, making faces at his teasing comments, trying everything within her to make him have a good time –making him smile, even if it was just a minuscule and insignificant second, and even making him go all teary eyed.

He stopped smirking when that last thought crossed his mind. Megumi's song, the way she had sung to him, the way the lyrics and the feeling she put on it had hurt like a fresh cut, and her beautiful voice. It all gathered together in his memory.

Yahiro frowned. He didn't like it. In fact, he hated the idea of the little girl being able to look through him like that, with such easiness and certainty, reading his expressions. On that day, she managed to figure out things about him that took Kei, for example, plenty of years to even consider. Megumi was supposed to be a dummy, naïve girl, right?

Then why did he feel even the slightest enjoyment on their so called 'date'?

Throwing away his line of thoughts, he gave up on the subject of why was the petite singer so strange to him –despite the fact that she communicated with a board and was able to make things explode just by singing, of course. Yahiro took the doll and started shaking it without a care.

He could not give it to Akira, no matter if things were less tense between them, something inside his head (call it survival instinct) told him she would defiantly feel uneasy. And that was for sure.

"They're really similar" he mused, hanging the doll from a strand of hair and looking at it again. It was flossy, it was beautiful, and it was expensive, even for the Saiga's always high budget.

So it was a shame to throw it away with the trash. Or so he made himself think as he called out for a maid.

'_Just because…'_ he thought. Yeah, he just felt really generous that day.

"Send this to this direction, and make sure there's no remittent" he ordered, handing the brown bag with the doll and a post-it with a direction quickly written on it.

When the maid was gone, Yahiro returned to his homework trying hard not to think in what he just did.

"So you didn't throw it away" his mother distracted him again. It wasn't a question, and that pissed Yahiro even more.

"It was in good conditions, there was no need" he replied nonchalantly.

"All your things there were new anyways, and they're out with the rest of the trash" there was a silence that told her Yahiro was not answering back "Did you send it to Akira-chan's?"

"Nope~"

And that same afternoon when Jun was checking the mail he found a brown back with golden designs and a card that read "Megumi Yamamoto" on it.

"Who could have sent it?" he said glancing at it with mistrust. "It looks kind of expensive"

"[I have no idea]" Megumi wrote on her sketch board, then took a strand of golden curly hair, completely dazed.

"Megumi-chan… it looks just like you"

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><p>There it is! juts a plotless fic... I'm so embrassed (and sleepy) :P<p>

Hope you liked it anyways! btw, I'm sorry for any mistakes. English it noooot my first language! :D yet here I am... stupid me.

Argg, that's it, I'm going to sleep. You know that feeling when you're sooo friggin' sleepy that you don't even know what the hell you're talking about? Yeah...

I know.

Review? :3


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